


I Am Awake and Feel the Ache

by orphan_account



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, POV Alternating, Secret Admirer, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-13
Updated: 2017-03-13
Packaged: 2018-10-04 15:05:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10281743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: After months of flirting, Victor and Yuuri finally sleep together on the night of Yuuri's birthday. But when Victor wakes up to an empty bed without even a phone number, he's heartbroken. And he has a plan to get Yuuri back.





	

**Author's Note:**

> LMAO I thought this was gonna be like 2000 words tops...man am I bad at math.
> 
> The title has no special meaning, I was just listening to Regina Spektor at the time and thought it fit okay and I suck at titling so here we are.
> 
> I have some other AUs floating around too but this is just the one I happened to finish first. So many thank you's to thatotherfiend on Tumblr (OtroAmigo on AO3) for letting me bounce ideas off her and also for just generally putting up with all my shitty story ideas and making them so so much better than they would be otherwise.
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

March 17, 2016

 

It’s been months and Victor still can’t shake the ache he feels in his chest when he thinks about Yuuri Katsuki.

He hasn’t really been actively avoiding him or anything. Maybe it would help if he did. But Yuuri hasn’t acted like there’s anything out of the ordinary, so Victor has decided that in order to fully save face he ought to do the same. But it hurts. Oh god, does it hurt.

He wishes he could understand the logic. But then again, in all the time he’s known Yuuri, which is going on about a year and a half now, the other boy has always been an enigma to him. A dream within a dream. One he wishes he hadn’t had to wake up from. But nothing good can last, he supposes, so he’s determined that he’s not going to cling to it. The past is in the past and that’s how it’s going to have to be.

 

November 29, 2015

 

Yuuri yelps when he feels Phichit step on his foot. “What was that for?”

“Don’t look now,” Phichit hisses, “but Victor just walked in.”

“Phichit…” Yuuri says, and he can tell his tone is a little much, but honestly. “This is his apartment. He lives here.”

“Yes, but Yuuri, he has been uncharacteristically absent for most of the evening. I wasn’t sure he was going to make an appearance at all. So I just didn’t want you to be surprised when you turned around, is all.”

Yuuri supposes that’s fair. He does have an unfortunate tendency to react strongly in Victor’s presence, and not in a pretty way. In a blushing, fumbling, tripping over his own tongue and either clamming up or saying something unbelievably stupid, sort of way. He knows that Phichit knows this, because Phichit is nearly ever-present in Yuuri’s life. He’s also pretty sure at least half the people in this extremely crowded room already know it too. Although he doesn’t get out as much as Phichit would like him to, he recognizes a lot of faces and can even put a name to many of them. And therefore, he knows that most of them have personally witnessed him making a fool of himself in front of Victor Nikiforov before.

It’s not like it’s some exclusive club, or anything. The first time he did it, for example, was when he was working at the local cafe and was such a stumbling mess when Victor walked in that Phichit ended up having to take over the order. It had been pretty crowded that day, including a large group of Victor’s friends who he had been late to join. So that had been fun.

“I’m going to get a drink,” he tells Phichit, because the beer he’s been nursing since he arrived is flat and warm and almost gone anyway. Half an hour ago Phichit had pointedly looked at the cup in his hand and flatly said, “Gee, Yuuri, don’t overdo it or anything,” and now he gives Yuuri an impish grin and says, “Finally decided to have some fun?”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Yuuri says. “First of all, I am having fun, and secondly, I’m just gonna get a soda or something.”

“Yuuri, there’s no need to lie. I know I dragged you here, and on your birthday no less, and I swear I’ll make it up to you tomorrow with a movie marathon and pizza or something. You don’t have to pretend you’re having fun on my account.”

Yuuri smiles softly at his friend. “Seriously, Phichit, it’s fine. I don’t mind. But I actually am thirsty, so…”

Phichit nods in understanding and Yuuri weaves his way through the crowd, making a beeline for the drinks table.

He barely registers the person that darts into his path before they collide.

“Sorry! I’m so sorry!” he says, jumping to his feet and extending a hand toward—Oh.

Yet again, he has humiliated himself in front of Victor Nikiforov.

But rather than acting annoyed, or telling him to fuck off, or any of the multitude of ways he could have possibly reacted, Victor just smiles and accepts Yuuri’s still-extended hand, using it to haul himself up off the ground. And then he says, “Good to see you, Yuuri. I didn’t think this kind of thing was your scene.”

Okay, so to be fair, they’ve actually interacted more than a few times at this point. They met in the September of Yuuri’s freshman year, when he had just started the coffee shop job the week before. He had been the one making drinks while Phichit, who had gotten him the job because he was the best roommate ever, took orders. It was going quite smoothly, as he had been a barista for a stretch during high school and was starting to get the hang of this particular machine. Until he had turned around with a finished latte in his hands and called the name and the most beautiful man he had ever seen had materialized to accept it from him. Amazingly, Yuuri had held it together long enough to successfully pass the drink over without dropping it.

Unfortunately for him, Phichit was dangerously perceptive, and when they had arrived back at their dorm after the cafe closed, he had turned around after locking the door and smirked and said, “So, Victor Nikiforov, huh?”

Yuuri’s eyes had widened. “You know him?”

Phichit had frowned for a second before his forehead smoothed out again. “I’m forgetting, you don’t get out much. Yuuri, pretty much every single person on campus knows who Victor Nikiforov is.”

“What do you mean?”

Phichit shook his head. “Just that he’s exceptionally popular, is all. He’s best friends and roommates with Christophe Giacometti,” and that was a name Yuuri already  _ did _ know, “and they’re only second years but they’re already known for throwing the absolute best parties. We should go to one sometime.”

“I’m not really a party person.”

“Wow, and even the chance of seeing Victor in his natural habitat doesn’t change that? You’re even more of an introvert than I thought.”

“Well,” says Yuuri, “maybe if you were  _ sure _ that Victor would be there. And if you were there to make sure I didn’t make a horrible fool of myself.”

“Aww, Yuuri, of course I’d be there! What kind of friend would I be otherwise?”

The next time Victor had come in, Yuuri had gotten unbearably flustered and fled before Victor had even reached the counter, poking his head out only after he heard footsteps walking away.

Unfortunately they hadn’t actually been Victor’s footsteps, and Victor was still standing at the counter, chatting amicably with Phichit since despite the crowdedness of the cafe there wasn’t currently a line.

“Oh, hi!” Victor said directly to him, waving, and Yuuri’s heart leapt into his mouth, making it impossible for him to formulate any kind of response. Victor continued talking at him as if Yuuri’s face wasn’t betraying how utterly flustered he was. “You were here last time but you’re new, aren’t you?”

“Ye-s,” Yuuri managed to stutter out, and that had been the beginning of a long series of encounters, several times a week, where Victor would come in during Yuuri’s shifts and talk at him without appearing to expect any kind of coherent response, before peering behind himself, realizing a line was starting to form, smiling sheepishly, and waving goodbye as he went to sit with his impatient friends.

So he supposes that now it’s not really all that odd for Victor to be talking to him, still clutching his hand. He probably knows Yuuri doesn’t like parties because of Phichit or something, since they’re actually quite friendly acquaintances. Although why they’d be talking about  _ him, _ he has no idea.

He realizes he should probably try to stammer out some kind of response to Victor’s statement (it wasn’t exactly a question, not really), so he opens and shuts his mouth a few times before finally blurting out, “Phichit dragged me here. It’s my birthday.”

Victor’s eyes light up. “Is it really?” he says, and Yuuri realizes it was probably a bad idea to tell him that. “I had no idea, I would have gotten you something!”

What? “Oh no, that’s really not necessary, I wouldn’t expect that of you—”

“Nonsense, Yuuri, all my friends deserve nice things.”

Friends? The surprise must show on his face because Victor falters for a second, but then the winning smile is back. “I’m being a terrible host,” Victor continues. “You were on your way to the drinks table, right? Can I get you anything?” He leads Yuuri by the arm over to the table and insists on pouring Yuuri’s ginger ale even though Yuuri protests, because “You’re awful clumsy tonight, Yuuri, we wouldn’t want you spilling it!”

“I’m a barista,” he reminds Victor. “I pour beverages for a living.”

“And that may be,” Victor responds, presenting the cup to Yuuri ceremoniously, “but you are also technically my guest tonight. So it’s the least I can do.”

“I don’t see you pouring anyone else’s drinks,” Yuuri points out, but he’s smiling.

“You’re not just anyone,” Victor counters, flicking his gaze down and up Yuuri’s body, and that’s when Yuuri starts to catch on.

Yuuri sips his drink, partly to give himself time to think about what to say next and partly just because he’s parched. “What am I, then?”

Victor just smiles and pushes a strand of Yuuri’s hair out of his eyes.

Yuuri has only had one weak beer, but he’s a bit of a lightweight. Not tipsy enough for it to be dangerous or irresponsible of him to do anything, just enough to give him a push of courage. So he decides to take a leap of faith. And he kisses Victor.

Victor takes a second to respond, but then his hands are in Yuuri’s hair and his tongue is slipping into Yuuri’s mouth and no one but Phichit can ever know that this is Yuuri’s first kiss because the fact that he’s made it this far without being kissed is kind of embarrassing, but apparently Victor hasn’t caught on yet because he definitely doesn’t seem to be complaining about Yuuri’s technique. Instead he hums softly and deepens the kiss and Yuuri thinks he might melt right there in the middle of the kitchen.

Oh, right. They’re in the middle of the kitchen. Surrounded by people. He goes to pull away, realizing Victor might not want to be seen kissing him of all people, but Victor gives Yuuri’s lower lip one last tug with his teeth before letting him go. And when Yuuri leans back to look at Victor, Victor is just giving him a crooked smile. “Sure you don’t want anything for your birthday?” he purrs, and Yuuri knows he’s in trouble, knows he’s about to do something he can’t take back, but he can’t much bring himself to care.

 

November 30, 2015

 

Victor awakens to a cold bed, arm still reaching out for something (someone) that’s no longer there. He blinks a few times, clearing the sleep from his eyes, before sitting upright and looking around.

It’s as if Yuuri wasn’t even here at all. He has to run the details over in his mind a few times to reassure himself that no, it wasn’t a dream. The most telltale signs include his own clothes still strewn across the floor and the slight stickiness of his skin, not to mention the lube bottle sitting proudly on the nightstand. He pushes the covers off his bare skin and swings his legs over to put his feet on the ground. He decides it’s probably best to start by putting on some clothes, regardless of whether or not Yuuri is ever coming back. He tugs on his boxers and reaches for his t-shirt. Except…

Except he can’t find it anywhere. It wouldn’t bother him that much except that it was one of his favorites, so he starts tearing the room apart searching for it.

Instead of finding his own shirt, he finds Yuuri’s.

It’s been kicked under the bed, but he finds it and picks it up carefully. He already knows better than to even try it on, knows he’d only stretch it out because Yuuri is shorter than him and although he’s a bit softer than Victor he’s still slight. Instead he holds it up to his face and takes in a deep breath. It still smells like Yuuri and his heart hurts more than he’d like to admit.

When he finally exits his room, in sweatpants and a different t-shirt altogether, Chris is sitting at their table with a cup of coffee and his phone in front of him. He gives Victor a knowing smirk, ready to tease, but Victor doesn’t have the energy to fake happiness and Chris’s face falls when he sees the look Victor is wearing. “Hey. What’s up? Didn’t you get what you wanted?”

And Victor can only shake his head, because sure, he got what most people in his position would want. But he’s not just anyone, and neither is Yuuri, and he wants Yuuri in every way possible, wants so much that it hurts, can only ever hurt. “Chris, why would he leave?”

Chris pulls a sympathetic face. “I don’t know. Can you ask him?”

“He didn’t even leave a phone number,” Victor says brokenly. Chris just pours him a cup of coffee and passes it to him.

“My advice? Don’t let it get to you. You’re a great guy, Victor. Someone will realize that eventually, and if Yuuri doesn’t then fuck him. Or don’t, as the case may be.”

Victor snorts despite himself.

He tries to go about his daily routine but images keep flashing through his mind, images of Yuuri. The softness of his skin, the weight of his arms around Victor’s neck, the taste of him, his soft cries…

Yeah, Victor is screwed. He hangs his head and sighs.

 

December 3, 2015

 

Yuuri has been bracing himself for this moment ever since the party. The moment he’d have to face Victor again after their…encounter.

He just hadn’t quite expected it to be so soon.

Sure, Victor usually comes in a few times a week, but somehow Yuuri had thought he might want to keep his distance for a bit. Apparently not.

When Yuuri turns around at the sound of the bell over the door jingling, Victor looks almost nervous. But that can’t be right, it’s not at all in line with what Yuuri knows about him. He probably just regrets what happened and feels bad for Yuuri.

Yuuri chews the inside of his cheek as Victor approaches.

“Hey, Yuuri.” His voice is weirdly soft. Pity it is, then, Yuuri thinks.

“Um, uh, hi, what can I get you?” Yuuri asks, eyes flicking anywhere but toward Victor.

Victor orders his usual latte and Yuuri rings it up and turns to make it. Victor stays uncharacteristically silent as Yuuri passes it to him and he just takes the drink with a weak smile and a nod before going to sit with the friends that are waiting for him, as always.

Phichit sneaks up behind Yuuri, startling him.

“Whoa, whoa, sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. Are you okay?”

“I shouldn’t have done it,” Yuuri sighs. Phichit seems to know immediately what Yuuri means because he squeezes Yuuri’s shoulder sympathetically.

“Does that mean you regret it?”

“Not for me, no. But clearly he does, so.”

“If you ever need me to fight him…”

Yuuri snorts. “It’s not as bad as all that, Phichit. The fact that he even gave me a chance is amazing. I should be grateful.”

Phichit just gives Yuuri an odd look before returning to work.

 

September 16, 2014

 

Victor freezes in the doorway of the cafe for a moment until Chris literally kicks him in the back of the knee. “Who is that?” he whispers to Chris.

“Who, Phichit? God, Victor I know your memory is bad but he’s worked here for weeks now.”

“No, next to him.”

Chris squints for a second before giving Victor a knowing look.

“I don’t know but he’s cute.”

“Chris—”

“You should talk to him.”

“I just—”

Chris gives him another look, disapproving this time. “C’mon Victor, now is not the time for you to suddenly decide to be shy. Where’s the confident playboy we all know and love?”

The truth of the playboy image is far more complicated than it seems, and Chris of all people knows that, but that’s neither here nor there at the moment, and Victor still gets Chris’s point. He chooses to ignore it. Chris gets fed up after a few seconds and just drags Victor to the counter.

He orders before Victor and takes his seat, shooting Victor a wink while Victor still stands waiting for his latte.

“Victor?” calls a musical voice, and Victor’s head jerks up and there he is, that beautiful boy, holding out Victor’s drink. Victor’s brain supplies after a moment that he should probably take it and go sit down. As he does, he meets the boy’s eyes and their fingers brush and he wishes he could just freeze this moment in time because  _ wow. _

Instead, he says a soft “thank you” and tears himself away because there are other people and his friends are waiting and how do you tell someone you don’t even know that you think you found yourself in their eyes?

When he takes his seat, Chris takes one look at him from across the table and bursts out laughing. “Oh my god,” he says, “Victor, you are  _ shook. _ ”

“What, what’s going on?” says Mila.

In lieu of a proper explanation, Chris says, “Does anyone know who the new barista is? Not Phichit, the other one?”

Mila grins. “Oh, I have a class with him! His name’s Yuuri Katsuki, he’s a dance major. He’s really good.”

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Victor murmurs under his breath before he can stop himself, and all eyes turn to him.

Georgi looks way too pleased. “Does Victor have a crush?”

Victor realizes what he’s done. “What? No, I don’t even know him! He’s just…”

“Here we go,” Chris mutters fondly.

“So cute…”

“And?” Sara prompts, her fingers twined with Mila’s.

“And I want to have his babies,” Victor sighs after a moment, resigned.

“There it is,” everyone but him says in unison.

Because the truth of his playboy image? He wanted to love them. Every one of them. Almost invariably, they ended it first, citing his clinginess, his intensity, how fast he tried to move. He’s nearly given up at this point. Has no expectation anymore. But he still wants it. More than anything.

So he looks across the cafe to Yuuri, and he hopes.

 

December 4, 2015

 

“Chris, what the fuck do I do?” Victor’s head is currently on their table, his arms hanging limply at his sides as he complains to his best friend. “He barely even looked at me yesterday. How can I find out why he left if he won’t even look at me?”

“Victor, I’m sure it’s not as bad as all that, just—”

“Is it because it wasn’t as good for him as it was for me? Oh my god, Chris, am I a selfish lover?”

“How the hell would I—”

“I bet that’s it, I bet that’s why he hates me now.”

“He doesn’t hate you, he probably just feels awkward.”

“That’s not much better, you know. I need a plan, a way to get him to actually fall for me. I thought my current methods were working but clearly not.”

“Victor, that’s insane and you know it, just talk to him.”

An idea pops into Victor’s head and he finally lifts his head up to look at Chris, who’s standing over him with his arms crossed. “I know! I’ll become his secret admirer.”

Chris splutters for a moment before simply saying,  _ “What?” _

“His secret admirer. I’ll leave him little notes and chocolates and things in his mailbox.”

“Because that’s not creepy at all.”

“Chris,” Victor pouts. “Does that mean you won’t help me?”

“God help me,” Chris mutters. “No, it doesn’t. As a matter of fact I know which mailbox is his.”

Victor’s eyes widen. “Thank you, thank you!”

Now he just has to figure out what his first gift will be.

He ends up going out to the local chocolate shop and getting a small box (very small, a bigger box wouldn’t fit in Yuuri’s mailbox) before sitting back down at the table to write a note to go with it.

He deliberates for a while before deciding to keep it short. Too long and Yuuri might get bored with him before he even reaches the end. Then he sneaks off to Yuuri’s building to find his mailbox.

Then all there is to do is wait.

 

December 5, 2015

 

“Phichit, do you know what this is?”

Yuuri has come back up to their room after checking his mailbox and found something…strange.

“Do I know what what is?” Phichit emerges from the bathroom, hair still damp from his morning shower.

“I found these in my mailbox and I don’t know if this is someone’s idea of a joke but…”

Phichit comes closer and grabs the box out of his hands. “Yuuri, are these chocolates?”

“Ye-s—”

“And what’s this, a note? Have you read it?”

“No, but—”

“Well, what are you waiting for?”

Yuuri reluctantly opens the envelope and pulls out the note. It’s short but it makes him blush.

_ Do you even know how radiant you are? _

“This must have ended up in the wrong mailbox, there’s no way this is for me.” He flips it around to show Phichit.

“I mean, maybe, but there’s no name on it and it’s free chocolate and a nice compliment all the same so if I were you I’d just accept it. Besides, maybe you have a secret admirer.”

Yuuri snorts. “Phichit, please, as if.”

“Don’t act like it’s impossible,” Phichit scolds him as he heads back into the bathroom to dry his hair. “You’re pretty cute, you know.”

“Oh my god, Phichit,” Yuuri mutters, but he’s smiling, just a little.

 

February 13, 2015

 

In the last few months, Yuuri has gotten a little more used to Victor’s presence. It doesn’t stop a blush from creeping up his cheeks whenever he materializes in the coffee shop, however.

Now is one of those times, the door swinging open and the wind shaking a few fliers that have been haphazardly tacked to the wall.

“Hello, Yuuri!” Victor calls out in his caramel, accented voice. “How has your day been?”

It’s only 9:00 AM. “It’s been good.”

As Victor approaches the counter, he smirks almost knowingly at Yuuri. “Any big plans for tomorrow?”

“Uh…” Oh, that’s right. Tomorrow is Valentine’s Day. “No, just work.”

“Yuuri, the shop closes at six, that’s still plenty of time—”

“Yeah, I know,” he stops Victor. “But there’s, uh, not anyone that—”

Victor’s eyebrows fly up. “Oh!” Then he frowns. “Really?” He leans on the counter. “I would have thought you’d have lots of prospects.”

Yuuri scowls. He knows he’s nothing special, but… “There’s no need to tease,” he grumbles.

Victor’s expression changes in an instant. “Yuuri, did you think—No, I was being serious, I—”

“Oh,” Yuuri says. “Well, in that case, I’m really not sure where you got that idea. Are you having your usual?”

Victor looks at him oddly but just nods, and then it’s business as usual.

 

February 14, 2016

 

Victor knows it’s a bad idea to come here on this day of all days. He just doesn’t realize how bad of an idea it is until he opens the door to the cafe and stops dead in his tracks at what he sees.

First he sees Yuuri, lovely as always but with his face red as a tomato. He’s reaching for something, trying to get it away from—oh, Mila and Sara are standing at the counter and giggling over whatever it is. It looks like…

Oh no.

It’s a letter.

He considers just turning around and walking out, but people are expecting him and even if he texted to tell them he wouldn’t be there after all he’d need to come up with some sort of believable excuse, and besides, the girls have just spotted him and are now waving him over.

It’s not their fault, he tells himself. He’s pretty sure they don’t even know he and Yuuri slept together. He hasn’t told anyone other than Chris because it’s too upsetting to think about. And he assumes Phichit is the only one Yuuri’s told, and while Phichit is a gossip, he clearly cares enough about Yuuri to keep a secret. As for the people surrounding them when they kissed for the first time, most of them were drunk out of their minds and his closest friends hadn’t been among them so there’s a good chance no one even recognized him at the time. It was dimly lit anyway.

So he supposes it’s forgivable that the girls are now giggling over what he’s pretty sure is the note he left for Yuuri at 6:00 this morning, wanting to make sure he got it today.

He approaches, bracing himself for impact. And then, there it is:

“Victor, did you know that Yuuri has a secret admirer?”

“Guys, please, I’m sure they just have me confused with someone else or something.”

“How long did you say this has been going on?” Mila asks. “Since December? Don’t you think they’d have realized by now if these were going to the wrong person?”

“Well…” Yuuri concedes.

“Isn’t this exciting, Victor? He found it in his mailbox with a single red rose. How romantic!” Sara is all but bouncing up and down in place.

“Very exciting,” Victor says, but his voice comes out all funny and both girls give him an odd look for a second. He tries to play it off. “So where’s the rose?”

“At home in water,” Yuuri mumbles. He’s very pointedly not looking at Victor. Victor’s heart does a funny flip at the idea that Yuuri kept the flower, even if it’s only because he doesn’t know who it’s from. At this point, it’s been months and Yuuri still isn’t acknowledging what happened. Victor is only continuing with the gifts for his own selfish reasons, not because he actually thinks anything can ever come of it.

The girls return to their seats after another minute or so of squealing over Yuuri’s situation. Yuuri and Victor now stand alone, the counter the only thing standing between them.

“Sorry about that,” Yuuri mutters. “You probably just want your latte.”

That is absolutely not at all what Victor wants, and he wishes he could say so, but instead he just shrugs and says, “I’m used to those two by now, it’s alright.”

“So, um,” Yuuri says as he rings up Victor’s order, and a funny look crosses his face for a second before he continues. “Do you have any…plans?”

It takes Victor a second to realize what Yuuri means, and then he has to hold back a laugh. Plans? On Valentine’s Day? Him? He says as much, albeit with at least an attempt at a neutral tone, and Yuuri frowns.

“Really? I would have thought…”

The thought briefly crosses Victor’s mind that this conversation weirdly parallels one they had almost exactly a year ago, but he shakes that thought from his mind. “Nah,” he says. “Haven’t done much of that lately.”

Yuuri frowns harder. Victor does not want to go down this particular line of questioning right now, and luckily for him, just as Yuuri is opening his mouth to speak, the bell above the door rings as a small group of people file into the building. Yuuri shakes his head and finishes making Victor’s drink, passing it to him without a word before moving on to the next customer.

Victor’s friends are seated at the table by the time Victor gets there. Today it’s just Sara, Mila, and Chris, since Georgi and Sara’s brother Michele both had class. They all look up guiltily when he approaches the table.

“You’re talking about me, aren’t you?” he says. He usually wouldn’t go for such a blatant accusation, but this time it’s obvious.

Chris smiles apologetically. “Have a seat, Victor.” Victor does.

“So,” says Sara, “would you care to tell us what the hell that was back there?”

Victor winces. “I can explain.” He looks to Chris for help.

“I haven’t told them anything,” Chris says. “I wanted to leave that up to you.”

“Oh, I see.” He hesitates. “So, um, I guess I should start with some background?”

They all nod.

Well, there’s nothing else to do, then. “So Yuuri and I slept together on his birthday—”

“You  _ what?”  _ Mila all but shrieks. Victor shushes her, looking around to make sure no one is looking. He accidentally makes eye contact with Yuuri. Shit. He turns back around.

“It had kind of been a long time coming,” he tries to explain.

“Ha,” says Chris.

“Chris, will you shut the fuck up? I am trying to explain my current predicament.”

“Sorry, sorry, go on.”

“I’d been flirting with him for over a year at that point but nothing had really come of it—Chris, I swear to god—but then the night of his birthday he came to a party at our apartment and I bumped into him, quite literally, and well…”

“Well?” Sara prompts him.

“What do you think?” he says flatly. “We fucked, we fell asleep, and when I woke up he was just…gone.”

They must see the broken look in his eyes, hear the hitch in his voice, because Mila sighs, “Oh, Victor,” and Sara reaches out and takes his hand in hers.

“I fail to see what this has to do with Yuuri’s secret—” Mila starts, but then the realization dawns on her face. “Oh shit, Victor, really?” she gasps.

“At first I told myself I was going to win him over, but I gave up on that a long time ago. Now I just want him to have nice things.”

“That does explain the rather pointed question about what he did with the rose,” Sara muses. “Although not the conflicted look on your face when he told you.”

“Well, see, that’s the thing,” Victor says. “I’m happy he seems to like the things I leave him. But he only likes them because he doesn’t know they’re from me. He’s clearly moved on, and I…”

“Victor,” says Chris. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous of yourself.”

Victor just smiles sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

“That is the stupidest and most  _ Victor _ thing I have ever heard,” Chris says, but his tone is fond. “He’s gonna find out eventually, you know.”

“I know,” Victor says, staring down at the lid of his coffee cup. “But if I can have this for now, then it’s worth it.”

 

January 24, 2016

 

Yuuri really needs to stop staying up so late.

He realizes this while standing in front of his building, looking down at the shirt he had grabbed out of his closet in his rush to get dressed. If he had been more alert, been paying better attention, he never would have picked this one, if only because of the embarrassment that would come if he gets called out.

It still smells like Victor, he thinks. He never did get around to laundering it, and returning it would have been too awkward, so it’s been languishing in his closet since the morning after.

He’s not late yet but he will be if he goes back to change so he decides to persevere. It’s not like he’ll see Victor today anyway, since he doesn’t have a shift at the cafe today.

He slides into his place at the breakfast table in the dining hall next to Phichit, who left five minutes before him. “Is that a new shirt?” Phichit asks. “It looks a little big on you, not that that’s a bad thing.”

Yuuri’s blush is all it takes for Phichit to figure it out.

“Oh, Yuuri, seriously?”

“I was in a hurry! I didn’t even realize until I was outside and by then it was too late.”

Phichit lets the subject drop and moves on to another more exciting one. “Hey, did you get another of those notes today?”

Yuuri’s mouth curls into a tiny smile despite himself. “Yeah, I did, actually. Here,” he says, taking it out. “I didn’t have time to run it back up to my room.”

Like the others, it’s short and cute and definitely meant for someone else. He wonders how the person got his mailbox confused with the one these notes and gifts are meant for. He wishes he knew so that he could return them to the correct person, but since there’s no way of knowing, he just shrugs and eats the chocolate, puts the flowers in water, listens to the romantic playlists (and seriously, who still uses CDs?), sometimes letting himself imagine, even for a second, that someone could like him enough to leave these things for him.

He watches as Phichit unfolds it and reads it aloud. “You’re that ‘nothing’ when people ask me what I’m thinking about.”

“Phichit, keep quiet!”

“What, worried the person is in the vicinity and will hear it?”

Well…yes, actually. He just shakes his head, exasperated, and takes the paper back, folding it carefully and tucking it into his backpack.

“It’s kind of an odd thing to say.”

Yuuri has to agree. The ones he’s gotten lately have been getting more creative, ranging from “I honestly think you can do anything you put your mind to. But I know what kind of thoughts you have so maybe hold off on that for now” to “I wish more people were like you. Because then more people would laugh at my jokes and be good looking.”

If the notes really were for him, he’d wonder if they were from someone who knew him. Someone who had talked to him, knew exactly how to tease him and get under his skin in the best way. But he knows they can’t possibly be, so he shakes off that thought.

They finish up their meal and start working their way toward their shared class. Yuuri feels Phichit grab his elbow and hiss “Don’t look now but—” and then it’s too late and suddenly Phichit has disappeared from his side and he’s standing alone a foot away from Victor Nikiforov.

“I—” says Victor, his eyes flickering down toward Yuuri’s shirt—his shirt. The look on his face makes Yuuri want to sink into the ground and never emerge.

“I can explain,” Yuuri says in a rush. “I didn’t mean to take it, it was just there and it was dark and then there was just never a good time to return it but I can give it back, maybe the next time you come into the cafe? I’ll have it waiting behind the—”

“No, it’s fine,” Victor says, and if Yuuri didn’t know better he’d say his voice comes out a bit choked. “It looks better on you anyway.”

And then Victor brushes by him without another glance and Yuuri is left staring after him. After a moment, Phichit emerges from behind the tree he had ducked behind for cover.

“That was weird, right?” Yuuri says. “Like, I’m not losing my mind?”

“No, there was definitely something off about him,” says Phichit. “Sorry, by the way. I just thought it might make things less awkward if he didn’t see me.”

“That’s alright,” Yuuri says distantly.

He stands there until Phichit gives his arm a tug, dragging him toward class.

 

March 19, 2016

 

Hubris. Fucking hubris.

Victor thought he was being stealthy. He really did. A part of him knew this couldn’t go on forever, but he just kind of assumed it would stop because life got in the way, or because Yuuri would move on in an obvious, tangible fashion, or because one of them graduated or transferred.

He never thought it would go like this.

He’s frozen with Yuuri’s mailbox door open, his hand halfway to the entrance, a letter and a box of chocolates about to be delivered.

“Victor, what are you doing?”

“Fuck,” he sighs, pulling his arm back and letting it, the letter, and the chocolates all hang by his side. “I suppose I should have expected this to happen eventually.”

“Victor,” Yuuri says again, taking a few careful steps closer. “What are you doing?”

“I,” Victor says helplessly, and then stops. Instead of answering, he thrusts the gift toward Yuuri. Yuuri takes it, tentatively. He tucks the chocolates under his arm in favor of tearing open the envelope and reading the letter and fuck, Victor knew he shouldn’t have written something so dorky.

Yuuri, to Victor’s abject humiliation, decides to read it out loud. “I can’t get you out of my head. Which is now becoming a problem because sometimes I have other things I need to think about. Like what my name would be if I were a dragon.” And then he does something absolutely incredible to Victor. He snorts.

Music to Victor’s ears, truly. He huffs out a laugh of his own. “Sorry it’s so dumb.”

“So,” says Yuuri, and his tone says he means business. Victor gulps. “Are you going to tell me who you’ve been delivering these for?”

“You, obviously,” Victor says, frowning. “Did you seriously think I’d deliver them to the wrong mailbox for months?”

“No,” Yuuri says, shaking his head. “I mean, who are they from?”

Victor just stands there for a moment, his mouth agape. And then he says, “Who the fuck do you think, Yuuri?”

Yuuri just blinks. “How the fuck should I know?” he shoots back, and now he looks kind of pissed. Oops.

Victor pinches the bridge of his nose. “Take a wild guess. What would be the obvious answer?”

Yuuri looks even more confused for another few seconds before it clicks. “Victor, no.”

He’d kind of expected that, but it still stings like hell. “I know, I’m sorry, I just—”

“Victor, listen. I can kind of see how it might have been funny at first.”

What?

“But it’s not funny anymore, okay? It’s been months now. No one really thinks I’d have a secret admirer like that. I get that life is one big joke to you, but it’s not for me. I’m sorry some people saw us leaving a party together,” and he laughs darkly at that before continuing, “I know it must have been awkward for you but that’s no reason for you to…to…”

What the fuck.

Yuuri is now just chewing on his lower lip, staring at the ground, and Victor wants to kiss that frown away, to smooth out the crease in his forehead, but he knows it wouldn’t do either of them any good if he were to attempt that right now, so he doesn’t. “Yuuri, I—”

“Look, there’s no need to explain, okay? Just go.”

So Victor does something that feels impossible. He turns around, and he leaves.

 

March 23, 2016

 

“Delivery for Yuuri Katsuki?”

Phichit turns to Yuuri with an eyebrow raised. “Did you accidentally have something shipped to the cafe?”

“I don’t know why I would,” Yuuri says, but he walks around the counter anyway. “Um, yeah, that’s me,” he tells the delivery guy.

“Sign here,” the man says in a bored tone. Yuuri signs.

“Bring it in,” he calls, and two more men come in, each hanging on to one arm of the biggest teddy bear Yuuri has ever seen in his life. It is over six feet tall.

It is wearing a shirt that says “I <3 Yuuri Katsuki” in giant red letters.

“For fuck’s sake, Victor,” Yuuri mutters. Only Phichit seems to hear, and he shoots Yuuri a sympathetic look. After his encounter with Victor a few days ago, Yuuri had spun on his heel without bothering to check the rest of his mail and run back up to his room. Phichit had been there waiting, and he had held Yuuri while he tearfully explained what had happened.

Phichit taps out something on his phone, and then his eyebrows shoot up. “Uh, Yuuri, I don’t want to alarm you or anything, but if I’m not mistaken, this bear cost over $200.”

“What kind of idiot spends that much on a stupid prank?” Yuuri sighs. Only Victor, is the answer to that question. Only Victor.

“A prank?” says a voice behind him and he turns to see Chris standing there. Chris, whose usually smug expression has been wiped clean off and replaced with confusion. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“I…no? I’m not?”

Chris honest to god face palms. “Jesus, I told him, I fucking told him that this was…” The rest gets cut off as he just groans.

“Chris?” says Yuuri. “What’s going on?”

Chris looks back up at Yuuri. “Listen, can you do us all a favor and just…just talk to him? Hear him out?”

“I gu-ess,” Yuuri says. “But I still have to work for another—”

“I got it, Yuuri,” says Phichit. “I’ll just tell Ciao Ciao you got sick if he asks. And I’ll make sure the bear ends up in your room, too.”

“Fucking bear,” Yuuri mutters disbelievingly, but he unties his apron and heads out the door.

 

***

 

The address is still burned into his brain. He takes the stairs two at a time, but then hesitates before knocking. He steels himself, tells himself this insanity won’t end one way or another until he confronts Victor, and then with his knuckles poised over the door…it swings open.

“Um,” they both say at the same time.

“Hi,” says Victor, and even on the one syllable his voice shakes.

“Hi.”

“I heard something.”

“So you just opened the door? Victor, are you crazy? I could have been a burglar or something!”

“Ah, so Yuuri does care,” Victor says, and there’s something in his tone that makes Yuuri’s head feel fuzzy. “Did you want to come in?”

“Yeah, I uh…I think we need to talk.”

With a resigned look on his face, Victor steps aside.

“So,” says Yuuri as the door clicks shut behind them. “You really went all out this time.”

Victor’s mouth quirks upward. “I suppose you could say that.”

“Victor, that bear was taller than you.”

“That’s not really all this is about though, is it?”

“Right.” Yuuri steels himself. “Victor, that night—”

“I’m sorry,” Victor says.

“For what?”

“For…I don’t know. For whatever it was that made you leave.”

“Leave…Victor, I thought—”

Victor’s eyes widen. “You thought what?”

“That it was…you know…a one time thing for you.”

“Yuuri, that’s—” Victor stops, takes a deep breath, and closes his eyes. Opens them. “Yuuri,” he says, and it’s softer this time. “How could you ever think that one night with you would be enough for me?”

Yuuri feels like the earth is crumbling beneath his feet. “Because…because you’re you. And I’m me. And I thought you just…”

“What, Yuuri? I what?”

“Were being nice?”

Victor throws his head back at that, staring up at the ceiling as if asking for strength. Yuuri flinches. “Yuuuuri.”

“Well, what was I supposed to think?” Yuuri cries out. “You didn’t tell me any differently, and it’s not like a guy like you would normally want to sleep with some loser virgin—” He realizes what he’d said and slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Yuuri,” says Victor carefully. “Was that your first time?”

“You were never supposed to find out about that,” he mumbles.

“You should have told me.”

“Why, so you could dodge that bullet?”

“No, so that I could have made it more…special.”

Yuuri softens. “Victor, it  _ was _ special. I got to pretend, at least for one night, that the guy I like liked me back. Even if I knew it couldn’t last.”

Somehow, when Yuuri wasn’t paying attention, Victor had taken a few steps toward him. Now he’s only a foot away, and his hand reaches out to stroke Yuuri’s cheek. “You never have to pretend that with me,” he whispers.

“Victor…” Yuuri says, and then Victor’s mouth is on his and oh god, he’s missed this. Even if it only happened the one time. It’s been on his mind constantly since then. He never thought…

“Do you remember where my room is?” Victor asks and Yuuri nods. They stumble their way in that direction, hands and mouths on each other like magnets.

“So all the notes and gifts…” Yuuri asks as Victor opens his bedroom door.

“I just wanted you to feel appreciated,” Victor says with a shrug.

“Ridiculous,” Yuuri mutters before kissing Victor again.

They both trip and fall onto the bed, the mattress softening their fall. Yuuri reaches out to grab onto something and…oh.

He pushes Victor off himself, earning a confused whine, in favor of holding up the piece of fabric his hand had latched onto.

“Victor…”

“I can explain.”

“Is this my shirt?”

“You left it on my floor and I just…”

“You put it under your pillow?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“It still smelled like you,” Victor says, voice small.

Yuuri can’t help it. He doubles over laughing.

“ _ Yuuri, _ it’s not funny! I was distraught! I missed you desperately and you laugh!”

“I’m sorry,” he wheezes, “I just never thought anyone would ever—”

Victor latches onto Yuuri’s side and presses a kiss to his neck. “You can have it back if you want it, I’m sorry I kept it this long.”

“To be fair, I still have yours.”

“I meant it when I said you could keep it.”

Yuuri smiles softly. “I’m going to hold you to that. It’s soft, I like it.”

Victor runs a hand through Yuuri’s hair and presses their lips together again.

And again.

And Yuuri thinks to himself that maybe they’ll be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> I hoped you liked it, if you did please consider kudos/comments because they're what bribe me to continue writing.
> 
> If you want to scream with me on tumblr, my Yuri!!! on Ice sideblog is katsvkivictvvri.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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